


These Castle Ruins

by terma_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-24
Updated: 2001-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26501317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: A new vaccine has been produced. Mulder wants it, Krycek knows where to find it but they both get more than they bargained for.
Relationships: Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder
Kudos: 1
Collections: TER/MA





	These Castle Ruins

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).  
> TER/MA June 2000 Challenge. This month's challenge is from Rowanne: Stories written with something of the author included in them are made more rich in detail and feeling by the emotions and experiences the author conveys in them. They are also more personal, and thus more interesting, for the author to write. This month's challenge is to write a story in which our heroes visit the town in which you live in. The story should include details about the town which will lend flavor to the background of the story. You might take the opportunity to create an x-file they would investigate that would involve local businesses or individuals (please change names for legalities sake!) This is not an invite for Mary Sue fic, but a writing exercise in creating an environment for the characters to act in.   
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a late entry for the RatB June 2000 'Home Town' Challenge. Many thanks to Aqualegia for taking a look at this and correcting as many of my awful spelling, grammar errors as humanly possible CONTENT WARNING: m/m sex and some swearing. If this isn't your scene then don't bother reading on—you know where the DELETE key is. You have been warned.

Go to notes and disclaimers    
**These Castle Ruins  
by Tarlan**

  
The sky above was filled with menacing dark grey clouds that warned of impending rain and, beneath his feet, Alex could feel the sodden earth, proof enough that this would not be the first raincloud to burst over the town this day. He turned his collar up to protect himself against the chill in the breeze that blustered over the open ground. Ahead he could see the ruined tower of Hadleigh Castle and he sighed, realising it would give him shelter from the cold wind but, probably, not from the rain should it fall. 

He stood silent for a moment, gazing out across the Thames Estuary towards the distant Oil Refinery on Canvey Island. His attention was pulled away by the sight and sound of a train passing far below, it's eight carriages giving it all the appearance of a slim caterpillar crawling over the ground at his feet. 

This was a strange place he'd chosen for a meeting, and yet Alex was pleased with the location. He liked it here. It was peaceful, with just the distant sound of the receding train to break the natural silence. He could imagine it being a good picnic spot on a bright, hot summer's day but now, in late winter, it was deserted. 

He wandered across to the stones that made up what was left of the tower, trying to remember when they said this place had been built. Was it 12th century? The fortification had been built on a hill overlooking the Estuary; a dark sentinel watching over the river access to London. 

If he listened carefully, he felt certain he would hear the history of the place, perhaps the sound of running feet upon the ancient stone, or the raised shouts of the watch when they spotted a foreign ship gliding along the deep channel that would take it straight into the very heart of London. 

His hand smoothed over the pebbled surface, and he found himself giving into the boyish urge to climb a few short feet up to one of the few remaining windows. The view through the window slit was eerie, perhaps because he could feel the ghostly presence of all those who had stood in this same place over the long centuries. With a sigh, he jumped back down to the ground and straightened out his leather jacket. With uncustomary disregard for his personal safety, he stalked back out into the open where he would have a better view across the landscape. 

He looked back at the Oil Refinery; the reason for his presence here today, aware of its significance in the Consortium's plans. The late Englishman had told him about the experiments being carried out there but, unlike in Tunguska, the victims were not native to this land. They were illegal immigrants deliberately placed on the boats travelling into the Thames by unscrupulous Consortium agents with promises of a new life waiting for them in a new land. Those promises were all too real, but it was not the kind of life those people had hoped to find. With no one knowing who they were or where they were going, they had no chance of escaping the Consortium's clutches. 

Krycek wondered, briefly, how many more of these places there were around the world, hidden in plain sight, with its rows of prisoners being subjected to the oilien worms of the Tunguskan meteor. 

The damp grass muffled the other man's approach but Krycek's sixth sense kicked in and he turned, reading the discomfort on Mulder's face. 

"Great day to pick for a meeting in the middle of nowhere, Krycek." 

"Hardly the middle of nowhere, Mulder. There's a town less than half a mile away. Anyway, this place has a good view of why we're here." 

Alex pointed out toward the distant refinery, eyes flicking over to check that Mulder had followed the direction of his finger. 

"It's an oil refinery." 

"No. It's a Consortium-owned oil refinery." 

"And the significance?" 

"Tunguska." 

Alex watched a shadow cross the expressive eyes, hardening them into bright jewels for a moment as past memories were reawakened. They had come a long way since Tunguska, finally reaching an uneasy truce, both men still filled with the grievances they held against each other, and yet both willing to put those grievances aside for the duration. Of course, Alex knew that there was far more to it than that, at least on his part. 

He wondered if Mulder would ever realise how much he cared for him: loved him. He had borne that love for so long, through so many beatings, through so many fights both physical and verbal that it was hard to remember when the lust had turned into this stupid form of unrequited love. 

"So when do we go in?" 

"We don't. Least you don't." 

"Not on your miserable life, Krycek. I'm not staying behind." 

"Still don't trust me?" 

"Only as far as I could pick you up and throw you." 

Alex grimaced, not needing to guess how far that was but secretely wishing Mulder would put as much faith in him as he did in Mulder. 

"Then it's a good job I've already been in and taken what you need." 

Alex forced himself not to laugh at the comical expression on Mulder's face as the emotions twisted from shock to confusion to anger. Alex stepped back quickly as he recognised the hard glint reappearing in those beautiful eyes a split second before Mulder raised his clenched fist, Krycek's sharp words bridging the space between them. 

"Not gonna be your punching bag no more, Mulder. You hit me... and I'll hit you back harder." 

Alex stared at Mulder, putting all his strength and determination into his eyes. Unrequited love be damned, he had taken enough abuse from Mulder over these last few years. He didn't need the additional pain of bruises and a blackened eye when he already had the dull throb from what remained of his severed arm to deal with. It was the one drawback of meeting in this country; the cold, damp air seeped through the layers of clothing, making his bones ache. 

As if to mock him, the heavens opened, the first few gentle droplets swiftly turning into a torrent of lashing rain as the wind picked up, driving the rain into his face. He registered the shock of the icy cold rain on Mulder's face, seeing the soft, spiky hair flatten against Mulder's head. They turned as one, and raced back across the slippery wet grass to the delapidated tower; the thick walls providing some shelter from the wind-driven rain. Alex shivered inside his leather jacket, feeling the trickle of water flowing from his wet hair down his spine. He swept a hand through the wet strands, trying to squeeze out the excess water before it, too, found a path down his back, silently wishing he still had that stupid-ass haircut. A quick flick of his hand across his scalp had been enough to dry the military-short haircut he had sported a few years earlier. 

Alex turned to Mulder, sighing deeply when he saw the anger-filled eyes stabbing at him as if he were responsible for the terrible weather in this country. He swallowed a retort. Okay, maybe he wasn't responsible for the weather but he could have, at least, picked a more sheltered rendezvous spot. 

They waited in silence, appraising each other covertly. Mulder looked thinner than he remembered, a little more gaunt, the eyes more haunted and glowing with some indefinable emotion. He saw the long fingers clenching and releasing, and he wondered if Mulder was having images of them tightening around his throat or smashing into his face. He knew what he would rather Mulder did with those hands. He had seen those fingers caressing the keyboard of a computer, dancing across the keys with an innate grace all of their own. He had fantasies where Mulder played him like that keyboard; fingers dancing over his flesh, memorising every centimetre of his body and storing the image and touch in that clever mind. In his dreams Mulder would hold him, caress him, whisper sweet endearments as they rocked towards a gentle yet passionate climax. 

Evidence of his need pushed against the front of his denims; Mulder's closeness all his body needed to ignite the fires of lust until they were burning in his loins. He licked away some of the rain that fell upon his lips, welcoming the precious water into his suddenly dry mouth. With heart and mind full of desire for Mulder, he glanced sideways, wanting to do his own share of memorising, and caught Mulder staring back at him. 

His heart lurched, skipping a beat before picking up the pace until it was hammering in his chest, recognising the true source of that indefinable emotion. 

A jagged fork of lightning lit up the dulled sky as the storm escalated, followed almost instantly by the rumble of thunder high overhead. Throwing caution to the rushing wind, Alex took a step into Mulder's personal space. Those beautiful hands grabbed at his head, fists clenching around the wet strands as he was dragged forward, his mouth savaged in a bruising kiss that was as raw as the elements surrounding them. He was slammed up against the stone wall, head bouncing against the sharp pebbles as Mulder thrust his tongue deep inside his mouth, pushing aside any resistance to his near-brutal assault. 

One hand left his head, sliding down between their close-pressed bodies, and Alex gasped in a mixture of pleasure and pain as Mulder pushed roughly against the hardened mass at his groin, fingers cupping his balls through the denim and squeezing hard. 

Mulder pushed backwards. Krycek's senses were momentarily overcome with desire and confusion but, before he had time to protest, he realised Mulder's intent. Both of those wonderful hands were reaching for his pants, those clever fingers popping the button and sliding down the zip, drawing out his hardened shaft. His pants were dragged down over his hips to his knees, exposing him fully to the wintry elements and Mulder's smouldering eyes. He gasped as his shaft was retaken in the strong grip, one hand sliding along his length from base to head, the other tracing a path of fire around his hip, across the curve of one asscheek before dipping into the crevice. The hot mouth took his own, swallowing his groans, as one wet finger circled the tight ring of muscle before pushing inside. He could feel the pressure building, his muffled cries gasped into Mulder's mouth as the finger raked over that special gland deep inside. 

His senses overloaded and he came hard, his essence pumping over Mulder's hand to be washed away by the falling rain. With barely enough time to draw breath, he was spun around, face pushed against the cold, wet stone, hips pulled back. A moment of fumbling was followed the feel of the blunt head pressing against the entrance to his body. Alex took a deep breath, trying to relax, cradling his face on his right arm and freely offering his body to the expected, brutal invasion. 

Moments passed, the rumble of thunder drifting off into the distance, the wind dying down until the driving rain became a fine drizzle that found them within the roofless tower. Alex could feel the chill of the cold rain seeping through his clothing, feel the warmth of Mulder's left hand still clasping his hip. He closed his eyes, aware that Mulder had come to his senses, his rage abating with the rain storm. The pain of loss which filled Alex far outweighed the expected pain from being roughly taken, and another part of his heart began to shrivel and die. 

He started to pull back into himself, to push aside the pain, his heart hardening against this final rejection, when he felt that hand moving. He had expected Mulder to push away from him, to step back with the knowledge of what he had been about to do etched across his face in disgust; not so much for his actions but for whom he was about to commit that act with. Instead, both hands stroked his wet flanks, moving up beneath his jacket and T-shirt to glide across the ridges of his ribcage. His breathing came faster when he felt the lucious lips nuzzling against the wet strands at the nape of his neck and he was unable to prevent the small sob falling from his own cold lips. 

* * *

Mulder pressed his lips against the soft, wet hair, nuzzling the strands aside until he could reach the warm flesh beneath. His hands stroked along the ribcage, tracing along one rib until his hands met, wrapped around the lean frame. This was not the way he had always fantasised their first time and yet, somehow, it was fitting that they should come together within the raging elements of the storm. However, the storm was abating as fast as his own emotions. The flashes of lightning that reflected the sharpness of his anger had faded away, the rumble of thunder in the dark clouds had mirrored the brooding, seething black rage that had filled him since the day he learned of Krycek's duplicity; his betrayal. The lashes of rain were the retorts that fell from his lips as he confronted this man, time and time again but the wind that drove the rain had vanished. 

Mulder tilted his head back, letting the drizzle fall over his face and he wondered if he was imagining that he could see patches of blue sky within the grey that was framed by the dilapidated tower of stone. 

He tried a moment of self-analysis, trying to discover what had fuelled the storm raging in his heart and realised that it was the thought of Alex putting himself into danger—alone—rather than trusting him. 

And why should he trust you, when all you ever do is hurt him? 

He could feel the cold rain soaking through his clothing, its icy fingers trailing along his spine, but Mulder knew that nothing truly mattered except the warm body in his arms. He wanted Alex, and now he knew that Alex wanted him. He let go of Alex with one arm, softly soothing when he felt the body tense. Mulder reached into his pocket and withdrew the small tube of vaseline he used as a lip salve in this cold country. He wrapped his arm back around Alex, unscrewed the small top and squeezed all the contents onto his fingers. With careless disregard for the natural beauty of the ruins, Mulder dropped the spent tube, his hand slipping back around the heated, damp flesh, his grease-slicked fingers stroking across the small entrance, teasing inside and stretching the tight muscle. With infinite care he pulled out his fingers and pressed the tip of his shaft against the prepared hole. He pressed forward slowly, feeling the muscle give, the body swallowing his engorged flesh. It was fascinating to watch, more erotic a sight than anything he had ever seen in any of his porn collection; his hard flesh pushing between the pale firm globes until he was pressed tight against the cool, exposed flesh. 

Mulder leaned over and nuzzled deep into the side of Alex's neck, tongue lapping at the moistness from the softly falling rain. Alex turned his head, and Mulder licked at the cold, wet lips, feeling them warm beneath him. He dipped his tongue into the heat of the mouth, entwining with his companion in a kiss full of desire rather than lust. 

Pulling out of the warm body until only the head was still embedded, Mulder then thrust back slowly, hearing the groan of pleasure as his shaft stroked across that special gland once more. 

They rocked together, slowly, his hand finding his lover's hardening sex. 

Alex found himself caught between two pleasures. The hard shaft filled him, rubbing across his prostate, sending flickers of fire searing through to his nerve endings; the warm hand stroked over his own aching flesh, the versatile thumb sliding over the sensitive tip, smearing the evidence of his renewed passion. He could feel the cold thighs slapping against his own cool flesh, could hear the soft murmurings as Mulder told him how good it was, how wonderful it felt to possess him. He wanted this moment to last forever, but his own body was spiralling out of control, his hips bucking back harder against the thrusts, drawing Mulder deeper into his body. He cried out softly as he came for a second time, his internal muscles clamping down hard upon Mulder, milking his lover of every drop. 

Alex supported the weight upon his back, even though his own legs were threatening to collapse beneath him, his harsh gasps gradually softening, his breath easing as his heartbeat slowed. 

Far below, he could hear the distant sound of another train crawling across the lowland. He shivered when Mulder pulled away, feeling bereft of more than just the warmth of their bodies in contact. With cold, trembling fingers, he started to pull up his jeans, his one hand making his movements awkward. He stilled when he felt Mulder's hands upon him, uncertain as his jeans were pulled up to cover his exposed ass. 

"Thanks." 

Silence. He wasn't truly sure what he was thanking Mulder for: the assistance or for giving him what he had always dreamed of having—Mulder inside him. Alex straightened himself out then turned to find Mulder standing just a few feet away, watching him with that same haunted expression in his eyes, but this time it was overshadowed by something more; there was realisation mixed with a weary acceptance, as if Mulder had only just come to learn of his own desire and had seen the futility in it. The shadow quickly passed from the bright eyes. Alex sighed deeply, then looked a way for a moment, gazing out into the distance where the oil refinery could just be seen through the gaping hole in the side of the tower. 

"So. When do we go in?" 

"Already said I've been..." 

"Know what you said, Krycek." Mulder grinned, seeming to mock the man standing barely a few feet away from him. "You didn't think I'd actually fall for that, did you?" 

"Why change the habits of a lifetime, hey, Mulder?" 

Alex could not help the bitterness inside from overflowing into words as he felt the full weight of that mocking grin upon him, suddenly feeling used, abused, and ashamed. He had wanted Mulder so bad that he thought he could handle any regrets from Mulder, never truly believing he would experience any regrets within himself. As he stared at that grinning face Alex felt like a cheap whore, one who had been paid with a sharp slap around the face. 

What did you expect? Proclamations of undying love just 'cos he fucked you? 

"When and where?" 

Alex swallowed down the bile that rose with the bitterness, very conscious of the soreness of his ass, and of the warm trickle of Mulder's come between his legs which only served to add to his physical and mental discomfort. 

"Head onto the island. There's a place called Charfleet's Industrial Estate. Be there at two-thirty... and I'll find you. The refinery's about a mile west of there, across the open fields." 

Mulder nodded, the grin fading to a smug smile. 

"I'll be waiting there. Don't let me down, Krycek, or..." 

A half-veiled threat hung in the air. 

"Or what, Mulder?" 

The malicious smile he aimed at Mulder wiped the smugness from Mulder's face. What more could Mulder do to him? He'd already beaten him and fucked him. What else was left other than shooting him? 

Alex watched as Mulder turned and walked away without giving him so much as a single backward glance. He closed his eyes, wishing the earth would just swallow him up whole. When he was certain Mulder had gone, he sank down onto the wet ground, dropping his head onto his drawn up knees and let his silent tears mingle with the soft rain. 

* * *

As the door to his hotel room closed behind him, Mulder slumped against it, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He could still feel the warm, wet flesh beneath his hands, could still see the curve of that beautiful ass, his shaft sinking into the incredible tightness and heat. He felt his body react to the images, his blood rushing down to his groin, filling his aching flesh. His fingers tingled where he had traced along the silken skin, had felt the strong muscles sliding over hard bone. 

Mulder groaned, sinking down onto the floor, back still pressed hard against the door. 

His erection wilted as he recalled the pain that came into those beautiful green eyes, hearing again the bitterness and regret in the soft voice. It wasn't the first time he had loathed himself, but this time he felt waves of self-hatred flood over him. He hated himself for the way he had treated Alex, but it had been necessary. He had witnessed the softening in those eyes, had sensed the love in that gaze but he could not afford to give into it. He could not afford to let Alex know that he returned that love in full measure. Better to squash it now while there was still a chance that they could both walk away. 

Who're you trying to kid, Mulder? 

He had taken enough psychology courses to understand the reasons for his aggression towards Alex, but knowing the cause did not neccesarily make it easier to bear. What he felt for Alex was no adolescent crush that would cause a few weeks of heartache before being brushed aside by a new love. Alex was far more than just a pretty face, a beautiful body. His heart slumped hard in his chest as he dwelled on the only physical imperfection; the missing left arm, his own guilt rising for the part he had played in bringing about that loss. He could not deny the shallowness, that it was that perfect figure that had first attracted him to the man. He had always loved watching Alex, savouring the gracefulness, the sway of the lean hips as those long legs carried him swiftly to wherever he wanted to go. However, there was also the quicksilver mind, the sharp intellect cleverly concealed that had revealed itself piece by piece. Alex was a powerful combination of beauty and brains, a perfect match to him in every way except one. They were not necessarily working to the same agenda and, sooner or later, they would clash. Mulder was not certain if he could survive that future betrayal should he let Alex into his heart and into his bed now. 

After several minutes he pushed himself back onto his feet and started to make preparations for the night to come. 

* * *

Alex sighed as the heat of the shower took the chill from his flesh and washed away the remaining evidence of Mulder's passion. He picked up the bar of soap, rubbing it all over his flesh, and then letting it stroke along the crevice between his asscheeks. The bar slipped from his grasp and he cursed softly, kicking it aside so he did not, accidentally, step on it later. He ran his hand over his soap-slicked body, feeling his nipples tighten in response to the stimulation, momentarily wishing it was Mulder's hand upon him. 

He stroked along his flank, his nerve endings recalling the pressure of a strong hand clamped over his hip, drawing him back against the firm body, impaling him on the engorged shaft. 

Whore. 

He berated himself, cursing his own memory as he relived the coldness in the smug face after Mulder had taken his pleasure, and yet he was so certain he had seen more in those eyes than satiated lust. 

The thoughts went turning round and round in his brain and he tried to drown them by tipping his face into the cascading flow from the shower. He felt the change in temperature and swiftly shut off the shower before the rapidly cooling water negated the comfort he had taken in its former heat. 

Alex wrapped himself in a thick bath sheet and stepped out. He wiped the steam from the mirror over the sink and stared hard into his eyes, wanting to gaze upon the fool who had believed, if only for a moment, that Mulder could love him. He resisted the urge to smash the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom, quickly drying off and dressing in a clean set of dark jeans and T-shirt, then pulled on his boots. The clock on the bedside cabinet told him he had plenty of time to grab a decent meal—perhaps his last meal if things did not go according to plan. 

With a wry, self-mocking grin, he shrugged into his leather jacket and headed out of the door. 

* * *

When two-thirty came and went, Mulder felt his temper start to rise, believing he had been stood up, but then there was a movement in a deep patch of shadow. Alex stepped out, gave him a predatory grin, then set off over the damp, muddy fields towards the distant oil refinery. 

Their progress was far slower than either anticipated, the thick, waterlogged marsh threatening to suck them under as they fought their way towards the refinery. By the time they reached the high, electrified fence, they were cold, wet and dirty, their hands and knees coated in mud from the numerous falls. Krycek dropped to his knees at the base of the fence, drawing a rucksack off his shoulders and dumping it onto the ground beside him. As he started to rummage through the interior, Mulder began to mumble angrily, wishing he had believed Krycek when he said he had already been here. If he had done so then he would not be crouched down here in the freezing cold mud, instead he would be sitting in front of a real log fire, blazing in the hearth, reading his future within the dancing flames, forming tales from the eerie shadows that flickered about the dimly lit room. He would have a hot toddy beside him, laced with fine whiskey, and just the distant chime of the grandfather clock that stood in the hallway to remind him of the lateness of the hour. 

Mulder shook off the warm image, realising the one thing that was missing from that welcoming image was the presence of a one-armed man snuggled into his side, the dark hair tickling under his chin as Alex purred like a warm, contented cat. 

He turned his attention back to the nimble fingers that were readying a small device trailing wires that would de-electrify a part of the fence so they could slip through. Questions formed in his mind, the sort of questions he ought to have asked earlier but his mind and body had been otherwise engaged at the time. Mulder gave himself a smile of self-derision before whispering those questions. 

"How did they get the vaccine?" 

Krycek looked back over his shoulder, his face cast in shadow from the light emanating from the distant refinery. But was that guilt Mulder had read before the shadows consumed his features? The reply was a low whisper, lower than truly necessary. 

"I gave it to them." 

"You? Why?" 

"The Russians wouldn't share, but they didn't have the expertise to carry on the research. They were going round in circles." 

"When?" 

"The same day the rebel leader was captured, the same day I..." 

Mulder felt his cheek tingle, reliving the feel of those soft lips pressed momentarily against him. That was the day he realised they both desired each other. How long ago had that been? Mulder tried to fool himself, pretending it was not printed indelibly onto his mind, but he knew how long ago it was. He knew it down to the minute. he shoved aside the memory, ignoring the warmth that flooded through to his groin. 

"The Tunguskan oliens are different from the one that took you over. Why?" 

"Mulder. This isn't the time or the place for..." Krycek gave an exagerrated sigh, realising that he would waste even more time trying to stop this discussion. "The Tunguskan oiliens are like... like seed. Sperm. Just enough intelligence to deliver and control the host body to allow for gestation of... of..." 

"A Gray?" 

"Yeah." 

"And the Piper Maru Oilien?" 

"A survival trick; decomposing themselves down into base matter, using oil as a medium for movement until a suitable host becomes available for re-gestation back into Gray form." 

Mulder felt a ripple of shock flow through him, realising how close he may have come to losing this man before he had even realised how much he had come to love him. 

"Why didn't it use you for that?" 

"I don't know. Perhaps it was a time factor. It needed to reach the safety of its ship but it couldn't get in there while in human form. Don't ask me why because I don't know. Maybe the door is keyed only to Gray genetics." 

"Plausible. The ship would have been sealed against possible infiltration by humans. The Colonists couldn't afford to allow any human access to a fully-operational craft. Being fifty years out of the picture it couldn't know that we'd already gotten control of one or more ships." 

Mulder recalled the testing going on at one of the secret airforce bases, not that he had found enough evidence that he could submit as substantiated proof of the existence of EBEs. 

"Mulder. I'm cold and tired. Are we gonna do this, or are we gonna play twenty questions until a guard wanders around the perimeter and spots us?" 

Mulder nodded his head and watched as Krycek placed the wires to cordon of a section of the fence. He drew a pair of wirecutters from the rucksack and handed them to Mulder, arching one eyebrow as if he expected a protest. Mulder grinned, realising this was Krycek's way of giving in to his handicap while retaining an air of independence. He knew Alex would not be able to use the wirecutters as efficiently with one hand as Mulder could using two. It took several minutes but, eventually, Mulder had cut a whole large enough for them both to squeeze through. This time it was Alex who went under the wire first, and it was Mulder who was left behind with a moment of hesitation and doubt filling him before he acknowledged to himself that he was here because he did not want Alex to go in alone. Just because he could not afford to love him, it did not mean that he wanted him dead. Alex needed someone to guard his back while they searched for samples of the newly-improved vaccine. 

They raced quickly over the exposed ground, keeping low to avoid being caught on the monitors, ending pressed up against the wall of a building, and against each other, shoulder to shoulder. 

"If this is a Consortium stronghold then why the lack of tight security?" 

"Mulder, I doubt most of the refinery staff are even aware of half of what's going on here. Keep the visible security too tight and everyone will get suspicious. The security will be tight enough where it's really needed." 

Cautiously, they made there way inside, flattening against the walls every so often to avoid being seen by the shift workers going about their legitimate business. His respect for Krycek went up yet another notch when he realised Alex knew exactly where he was headed. They came to a metal door, the words 'authorised personnel only' written across in scarlet letters. Krycek shifted the rucksack on to the floor and pulled out a small electronic gadget. He connected it up to the swipe card lock and waited silently, then he drew a card from his pocket and swiped it through the machine. Mulder watched as the red light dimmed, another beside it flashing green. The door gave a loud click that echoed along the otherwise silent corridor. Pushing it open quickly, Alex stepped inside, drawing Mulder in with him. The door closed behind them automatically. 

Mulder frowned. There was nothing to see in this room. It was just a staff room with a small kitchen area set off to one side and a lounge on the other. 

"Don't let it fool you, Mulder." 

Alex walked across the room to the far corner where a metal bookcase held a selection of scientific periodicals and books, seemingly left available for those authorised staff to peruse during their rest breaks. His fingers groped along the back edge until he found the hidden button and Mulder grinned as the bookcase slid aside to reveal the entrance to a short corridor. 

At the end of the corridor was another door and Mulder was not surprised to realise this was an elevator. What better way to hide secret laboratories than to build them beneath the complex. Above ground, people would start to wonder what was housed in those restricted areas. Beneath the ground, no one needed to know they even existed, except for the Consortium scientists and their controllers. 

There were only two buttons inside the elevator; an up arrow and a highlighted down arrow. Alex pressed the down arrow, staring straight ahead as the door slid closed. Mulder could see Alex's indistinct reflection in the unpolished steel, the tension in the air becoming thick and uncomfortable as Alex avoided looking at him. 

Wish I could tell you how much I want you, and how much I love you, Alex. Wish I could explain why I have to pretend I don't. 

The elevator stopped suddenly, the door sliding back swiftly and it was only then that Mulder noticed the gun in Krycek's hand, the silencer lengthening the barrel. Krycek saw Mulder's stare and gave him a reassuring nod before they stepped out of the elevator into a longer corridor. They moved silently along, and Mulder could see Krycek frowning, as if he was internally counting off the number of doors. He stopped and faced one, his green eyes flicking towards Mulder. Mulder took the offered weapon from Krycek's hand and stood guard while Alex manipulated the electronic lock as before. The door slid open silently, without an audible click. Their eyes met for a moment and they stepped inside to find a large room filled with metal beds lined up in a dozen rows locked into place. Each bed had metal wrist and ankle clamps, and a head brace to prevent any movement. Instinctively, Mulder glanced up and saw the small pipes placed above the head of each metal bed. 

His memory reached back to Tunguska, to the chicken wire that held him in place as, from above, black oil poured from the pipe above to land on his face. He remembered the feel of the oil seeming to come alive upon him, the black worms crawling over his face, sliding between his closely pressed lips, up his nostrils. He remembered screaming as the creatures crawled into his brain, and then nothing until he awoke to find himself back in his prison cell, alone. 

"You left me there." 

Krycek didn't bother to pretend he misunderstood Mulder's words. 

"I had a plan for getting us both out of there... but it took time. I had to prove my connection with the Russian Consortium, convince them I was there for a legitimate reason. Keeping tabs on you." 

"You knew what was there all along. You knew what would happen if they caught us..." 

"Would it have stopped you if I had said something? My only mistake was following you under the wire when I should have got the hell out of there. It cost me my arm, or had you forgotten that?" 

"And what did it cost me?" 

Krycek sneered, his voice full of barely controlled anger and bitterness. 

"It cost you nothing but a few days of your life, and it gained you immunity from Oilien infection. Here." 

Alex, who had continued walking across the laboratory with Mulder following only a few feet behind, pointed to a glass-fronted cabinet. It took only moments for him to jimmy the lock and swing open one door. Alex grabbed several vials, stuffing them into his pocket then moving the remaining vials about to disguise the hole he had created. 

"Anything else you need?" 

"Oilien material?" 

"No way, Mulder. I'm not touching that stuff. You want it, you get it." 

"Not immune, Krycek?" 

"They experimented on me too, Mulder. You weren't the only one under the chicken wire." 

They took Mulder aback. He had always assumed that Krycek had managed to inveigle his way out of the experiments, never once dwelling on the possibility that Krycek might have suffered the same fate as himself. 

"I didn't know..." 

"Yeah, well, Mulder. There's a lot you don't know..." 

"What's going on in here? Who are you?" 

Krycek's head snapped up, and they turned to face the stranger who had happened upon them unexpectedly. Mulder's mind took in the details, the white coat that denoted this man as a scientist rather than a guard. He took a step towards the man, raising one hand placatingly, and saw him back away towards the corridor. Mulder knew, instinctively, that there was no way to reach the man before he gave the alarm. The phut noise sounding beside him seemed to coincide with the third eye now adorning the centre of the man's forehead, and Mulder could only stare, wide-eyed, as the unfortunate scientist crumpled to the floor. He turned to Krycek, stunned horror filling his mind and, before the face hardened into an impassive mask, the eyes becoming as cold as green chipped glass, Mulder thought he saw regret. 

"Let's get out of here before we end up on one of these tables." 

Mulder nodded, swallowing all the angry words that had leapt into his head, almost ashamed that he had been about to launch an invective against his seemingly trigger-happy partner in crime. Alex had done the right thing. He had neutralised the threat in the only way possible to them, by eliminating it. Now it was time to take what they had and get out before the next person who spotted them managed to sound the alarm. 

With Krycek's help, Mulder dragged the body into the shadows, hoping he would remain unseen until they had managed to get far away from here. They stepped back into the corridor and raced back towards the only way out; the elevator. 

Alex was the first to break the silence. 

"We can't go out the same way we came in. Too risky trying to cross those fields again. If we get caught out in the open... we're far worse than dead... we become experiments." 

Mulder could only nod in agreement, his mind flicking through every details of this place that he could remember, trying to find a way out that would keep the risks down to a minimum. 

"There was a series of lockers in that anteroom. We check them for a change of clothes, disguise ourselves, blend in. Then we walk out the front door, take a car from the staff parking lot—and get the hell outta Dodge." 

* * *

It seemed such a simple plan but Alex knew so much could go wrong. To start with, they only found one pair of overalls inside the lockers, but Krycek made sure Mulder was the one to wear it. Despite his earlier regrets for what they had done at the old ruins, he could not stop himself from loving Mulder. Mulder's safety had always been more important than his own. Ensuring Mulder's safety was the only reason why he had been wandering through those Tunguskan woods rather than heading straight back towards the gulag guards. So typical that Mulder should be the one to get out of there intact, and Alex wished that his own guardian angel had been as vigilant. 

They moved along the corridors with Alex keeping in the shadows for the most part, allowing Mulder to deal with any obstacles that were thrown into their path. Once out in the parking lot, Alex opened the nearest car in seconds and threw himself into the driver's seat, leaning over to unlock the passenger door. He ripped the casing from the steering column and grabbed a handful of wires, cursing his lack of two hands as he joined two stripped wires. In the past, when he had two hands, this simple task would have taken him only a few seconds to accomplish. Now, he lost valuable time trying to hold each wire in place. He sighed as he was rewarded with the sound of the engine turning and taking hold. He shoved the car into gear and set off quickly, holding back on the urge to floor the gas pedal as it would only draw unnecessary attention to themselves. He breathed a sigh of relief as they cleared the guard house at the perimeter without incident and turned off towards the industrial estate where they had left their own rentals. 

"Damn." 

He met Mulder's eyes, seeing the confusion clear at the sound of a helicopter passing close overhead. Alex resisted the urge to go faster until he knew for certain that they were after them. That was confirmed moments later as the helicopter came alongside, a bright, white spotlight pinpointing the car. Alex turned off all exterior lights and then floored the gas pedal even though he knew there was no way to outrun the helicopter, deciding it would be far better to lose his deposit on the rental than end up as a guinea pig for a Consortium experiment. He took a left onto the dual carriageway leading off the island, hoping the avenue of trees would force the helicopter to back off. As he approached the large roundabout near the edge of the island, Alex saw the bright headlights of cars moving on the wrong side of the carriageway—on his side of the carriageway—trying to head him off. He took another left, taking the bypass onto the alternative route off the island, his hopes of avoiding capture growing slimmer with every moment. 

"I'm gonna slow down fast. Get ready to jump." 

"No." 

Alex risked taking his eyes off the road to glare at Mulder. 

"The vials are in my pocket. Take them and go." 

"No." 

"Mulder. I haven't time for games or argument..." 

"I'm not leaving you this time." 

Shock raced through Alex and he swallowed hard, hearing everything he ever wanted from Mulder in the hoarse whisper. He knew, without needing to turn, that the haunted look of hopeless love, that he thought he had once glimpsed in those beautiful eyes, had returned in full force. He wanted to cry. He had waited so long to hear that voice soft with love rather than hard with rage, had dreamed of being loved by Mulder—and now it had happened. He felt as if he was playing a lead role in a Shakespearean tragedy, the threads of happiness being dangled before his eyes moments before they would be cruelly snatched away forever. 

"Then we both die..." 

"Or live." 

Mulder reached across and tugged Alex's seat belt into place, forcing Alex to let go of the steeering wheel for a moment and then he pulled on his own seatbelt, tightening it securely. Alex was confused, wondering at this sudden urge for in-car safety but quickly decided Mulder wanted to ensure he could not somehow stop the car and throw him out. He was totally unprepared for Mulder's next action. Time seemed to stand still as he felt the warm lips on his cheek. He turned his head slightly and felt the lips graze across his own and then, while his senses were reeling, Mulder grabbed at the wheel, pulling it down hard, sending them hurtling over the side of the road and down the deep embankment. Alex could feel every shrub, every lump in the ground as they flew down the incline. The airbag exploded into his face as they came to a sudden halt, the steering column collapsing away from him. 

The engine had cut out leaving them in deathly silence until the roar of the helicopter passing some distance away filled the air. Beside him, Mulder groaned, holding ribs that had probably been bruised by the sudden resistance of the inertia reel seat belts. 

"Let's get moving... before they realise we've left the road and come searching for us." 

Alex ripped out the fuse panel to ensure no interior lights came on when they opened the doors and they clambered out. He groaned, feeling a dull, unpleasant ache throughout his whole body; unwelcome evidence of cold, wet and abused flesh. He glanced around, wary that they needed to start moving right away. 

"Which way?" 

"We need to cross to the other side of this road. If we keep going we should come to the houses on the edge of the town." 

"Steal another car, Mulder?" 

Mulder grinned, hearing the teasing in the soft voice. 

"If necessary." 

They climbed up the steep embankment, all senses stretching out for any sign of their pursuit, then they raced across the road and dived down the other side. The ground was a little less waterlogged but it was still hard going. However, they pressed on as hard and fast as they could, eager to put as much distance between themselves and the car as quickly as possible. 

"Shit." 

Alex heard Mulder's exclamation and realised, seconds later, what had caused it as he sank to his knees in freezing cold water. They carried on relentless, wading through the water, aware of it slowly creeping up their bodies to mid-thigh and praying it did not get any deeper. 

Alex broked the silence, his words interspersed with harsh breathing. 

"There's a private... airstrip about... thirty miles from here. I've got a light plane... primed and waiting to take off. It's got room for one more." 

"Where's it headed?" 

"France." 

"Then I'm glad I've got my passport and wallet on me." 

* * *

A car was waiting for them when they arrived on the French side of the English Channel. Alex pulled a holdall from the trunk and went into the restroom. He emerged a short time later in clean clothing with his hair damp, and traces of dirt scrubbed from his face. 

"There's another set of clothes in the bag. Jeans ought to fit you." 

Mulder nodded, grabbed the holdall and went into the restroom. He gazed at his face in the mirror, saw the lines of fatigue and the smears of mud but these could not disguise the raw emotion staring back at him through his tired eyes. He rubbed a hand across his stubbled cheek then filled the bowl with warm water. Minutes later he had cleaned his face and had stripped out of the soaking, grimy clothes, finding Krycek's clothes were a surprisingly good fit. 

When he returned to the car he found Alex deep in discussion with the pilot, passing the man a small packet that probably contained payment, and Mulder was impressed by Alex's fluency in French. He recalled the Russian that Alex had also used with relative ease. 

Not bi-lingual then. Multi-lingual. Perhaps you should have joined the diplomatic service as a translator, Alex. 

Mulder grinned at that thought, then he clambered behind the wheel of the Renault, watching the sun rise over the landing strip, the darkness pushed aside by a grey curtain. He caught movement behind through the rearview mirror and watched as Alex came across towards the car, his natural grace still apparent but subdued by the heavier footfall of exhaustion. Mulder was surprised when he gained no argument from Alex, catching just a moment of hesitation in the approaching figure, as if Alex had not expected to find him waiting. Mulder looked across as his companion slumped into the passenger seat, clearly seeing the fatigue written across the beautiful face. Crossing the shallow lake had been physically debilitating, the freezing water sapping the remaining strength from his legs, but how much worse could it have been it he had only one arm for balance? He spoke softly to the clearly exhausted man. 

"Where to now, Alex?" 

He watched as Alex squeezed his tired eyes shut for a moment before opening them to stare out through the windscreen, finding himself mesmerised by the long dark lashes that framed the stormy-green eyes. 

"Straight on until you hit the main highway then head south. About forty miles down that road is a small village with a motel. We'll stop there. Figure out what to do next." 

Mulder started the engine and set the car moving. 

As the French countryside passed quickly by, his thoughts returned to the drama of their escape from the Consortium. They had made it across the fields, across the marsh, to the outskirts of the town, having to throw themselves down into the mud on several occasions as the searching helicopter passed overhead. Alex had broken into another car and they had joined the increasing number of vehicles that were heading out of the town. The rest of the journey had been almost an anticlimax. They had made good speed to the private airstrip, had found the plane waiting for them and it had taken off within minutes of them stepping onboard. The flight over Kent and then across the English Channel had been a little rough but had gone without a hitch, with not even the slightest delay from the weather front that had been moving in fast. Nonetheless, it had been an uncomfortable trip, his sodden jeans clinging coldly to his legs. 

At least he felt warm now, although still grimy beneath the dry clothes. It seemed strange and yet erotic knowing he was dressed in Alex's clothes, even down to socks and boxers. Mulder drew his thoughts away from the eroticism, and concentrated on the road ahead, aware that he was too tired to let his attention divert. 

Just under an hour later, Alex nudged Mulder's arm and pointed to a sign for the next exit. Mulder followed the monosyllabic instructions and finally came to a halt in the parking lot of a small motel. He sat in the lobby watching Alex as arrangements were made with the concierge, staring at the tall, lean figure. The dark jeans were a snug fit, taut across the firm asscheeks and muscular thighs. Mulder's memory flashed back to the old ruined castle, to the sight of those bare asscheeks and thighs. 

"You ready?" 

He snapped out of the dreamlike remembrance, pushed himself back to his feet and followed Alex up a flight of stairs then along a corridor to the far end. The room was clean and bright, decorated in a soft beige and green with complimenting curtains that billowed as they were caught by the fresh breeze gusting through an opened window. Two double size beds took up most of the space, the quaint rustic patterns on the bedspreads adding to the homely effect. 

Alex locked the door behind him, dropped the holdall onto the bed furthest from the door and then pulled the window closed. He clicked the heating up a few notches. 

"Gonna grab a shower." 

Mulder waited a few minutes until he could hear a change in the sound of the shower that told him Alex had stepped beneath the cascading water. He finished taking off his clothes and entered the unlocked bathroom, pulling aside the screen and stepping up behind a surprised Alex. 

"Don't wanna risk you using up all the hot water, Krycek." 

"Mulder, don't." 

"Don't what? Don't touch you like this?" Mulder's hands slid down Alex's sides, from rib to thigh, gently pulling Alex back against him. "Don't kiss you like this?" He nuzzled beneath the dark strands, mouth latching onto the creamy throat, biting and sucking the warm, wet flesh, ignoring the water that ran in rivulets down his own face. 

"Mulder. Please." 

The soft begging almost stopped Mulder in his tracks, but he knew that what he was doing was right, for both of them. He wanted to show Alex that his callous treatment of him at the old ruins would never be repeated. The hurt he had seen in those unguarded eyes had cut him to the quick even though it had seemed the right thing to do at the time. The heart-stopping fear of capture had cast aside all those reasons for staying away from Alex. He had imagined never seeing Alex again, or worse still, of spending the rest of his life catching only glimpses of his lover writhing in torment and pain, hearing only his cries of agony rather than the longed-for, soft moans of pleasure. 

Alex turned in his arms, shoving Mulder back, the green eyes glaring in a mixture of anger, desire and confusion. 

"I'm not your fuck-toy." 

"No, you're not. Not now, and not then either." 

The anger drained away, replaced by a look of shocked disbelief. 

"Is that some sort of apology, Mulder?" 

Mulder gave Alex a wry grin, realising that he was, indeed, apologising for his coldness at the ruins. 

"Yeah, I guess so." He pushed his face back into the warm spray, then drew back. "Let's finish up here before the hot water runs out. Don't particularly want a cold shower. I like the way I'm feeling." Mulder gasped as a warm, wet hand wrapped itself around his engorged shaft. "And it's getting better every second." 

Pleasure bordered on pain as Alex tightened his grip just a fraction more, forcing Mulder to meet eyes that had hardened to chips of green ice. He poured every ounce of sincerity into his own gaze, as was rewarded as a thaw set in, the fingers easing their stranglehold on his sensitive flesh. 

"Let me show you how sorry I am." 

Mulder reached out and drew Alex into his arms, mouth latching onto the creamy flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder. He sucked hard, teeth grazing the skin, raising a vivid red mark of possession. His tongue reached out to lick at the droplets of water running down the muscular chest, following the trail of a single bead of water as it poised on the tip of one nipple before toppling to the shower floor. He latched onto that nipple, capturing the next droplet, willing to endure the loss of those fingers from his aching flesh as he continued down the beautiful body until he was on his knees, tongue tracing the vein of the proud shaft from base to head. Fingers scrabbled through his hair, grasping futilely at the short, wet spikes, and trying to force Mulder closer. 

Mulder flicked his gaze upwards, another part of his own wounded soul healing as he saw the enraptured expression, feeling the heat from the lust-darkened eyes igniting the fire within his own body. His soap-covered fingers slipped inside the tight channel, thrusting gently, rubbing over that special gland deep inside. His lips closed around the sensitive head, mouth and fingers slowly bringing Alex to the brink of existence. 

There were a dozen reasons why this was wrong, but a billion more reasons why being with Alex was so right. Every cell in his body seemed to be calling to this lover, every neuron firing sensation upon sensation through him until he had never felt so alive. The image of Alex as he slipped over the edge was forever burned into Mulder's mind, the cry of passion satisfied, although muffled against the cascading water, was the sweetest sound Mulder had ever heard. 

Mulder gained his feet quickly, supporting his sagging lover, leading him from the shower cubicle just as the water lost all its heat. He ignored the iciness from the few droplets that reached his skin as he gently pushed Alex to the floor. He squirted a generous amount of complimentary body lotion into the palm of his hand then smoothed it over the length of his shaft. As he pressed forward into the beautiful, willing body, Mulder's mind flew back to that first encounter, seeing again the vision of his engorged shaft disappearing inside the firm ass. He thrust quickly, unable to hold back as his senses overloaded. 

His lay his cheek upon the damp back, feeling the heat from Alex's body ease some of the chills from his own rapidly cooling flesh. He turned his head slightly, kissing the soft skin, then drew back, his now-flaccid shaft slipping from Alex's body. Alex remained unmoving for a moment, and then Mulder noticed the fine trembling, saw goosebumps rise and realised they were both getting chilled. 

Mulder stood up, gently cleaning his lover before offering a hand. He recognised the coolness in the tired, green eyes, his confusion fading as he recalled his cruel actions at the old castle ruins, how he had pretended Alex had been good for nothing but a quick fuck. 

This time it would be different. This time he had no intention of fighting the feelings he held inside for Alex. This time he wanted Alex to know he was loved. He held out his hand and smiled. 

"Let's go to bed, Alex." 

Some of the coolness faded, Alex's face taking on a wary look in its stead, as if unsure whether this was still a cruel game Mulder was playing. He took a large bathsheet from the rack then, with a little difficulty, wrapped it around himself. Mulder sighed gently and grabbed the second bath sheet, wrapping it around his waist, and then he followed the similarly wrapped Alex back into the bedroom. He watched appreciatively as Alex dried himself, rubbing the towel along the length of his long legs, amazed at how graceful Alex could be, even with just the one arm. 

Mulder noticed that Alex made no attempt to catch the droplets running between his shoulder blades, and then realised how many of the simple things in life he took for granted. He drew his own towel from around his waist and smoothed it over the damp skin, ignoring the sudden tension, keeping his strokes firm yet gentle until Alex began to relax beneath his touch. He did not follow when Alex took a step away from him, a gruff word of thanks floating over one shoulder. Alex padded back into the bathroom returning moments later without his towel. 

"We need to talk, Alex." 

Alex stared hard at Mulder, eyes slightly narrowed, those beautifully formed lips pursed almost petulantly. 

"To be honest, Mulder. All I want to do right now is crawl into bed and go to sleep." 

Mulder masked his disappointment with a soft grin as Alex slid between the sheets on his chosen bed, facing away from him, snuggling down into the soft pillow and drawing the covers up high until only the damp strands of mahogany hair were visible. 

With a mischievous grin, Mulder finished drying himself then clambered into bed behind Alex, grinning at the muffled protest. 

"There are two beds in this room, Mulder." 

"But only one of them contains you." 

"I prefer 'one of them contains only me'." 

"Semantics. Prefer my wording." Mulder wrapped his arms around the lean figure and planted a soft kiss on the back of Alex's head. "Go to sleep." 

Mulder's grin widened, unable to catch the muffled retort but willing to bet that it was something derogatory. However, it was obvious that Alex was too tired to make an issue of it and, soon after, he heard Alex's breathing deepen as his lover drifted off to sleep. 

For Mulder, sleep was as elusive as ever, his mind turning in circles as he considered the past day and the impact it had on him. There was so much they needed to talk about but he was prepared to wait. As his arms tightened around his new lover, Mulder realised that nothing had quite turned out the way he had expected and yet, with the warm weight of Alex in his arms, he found he no longer held any regrets for what had transpired between them in the old ruins. 

* * *

[email removed]   


TITLE: These Castle Ruins   
AUTHOR: Tarlan   
DATE: 24th March 2001   
E-MAIL ADDRESS: [email removed] or [email removed]   
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: YES to Chaelyndra, Rat, Gossamer, Archive/X, WWOMB, Spooky and Basement. Elsewhere please ask first—I don't tend to say no... I just like to know where my stories are going   
WEB SITE: or on my page at RatB [broken link removed]   
RATING: NC-17   
CONTENT WARNING: m/m sex and some swearing. If this isn't your scene then don't bother reading on—you know where the DELETE key is. You have been warned.   
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a late entry for the RatB June 2000 'Home Town' Challenge. Many thanks to Aqualegia for taking a look at this and correcting as many of my awful spelling, grammar errors as humanly possible   
COMMENTS: I love feedback... feedback makes me very happy... as long as it's constructive.   
DISCLAIMER: Alex Krycek, Fox Mulder and all the other X-Files regulars belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX Television. No copyright infringement intended. Canvey Island and Hadleigh Castle are real places but there is nothing sinister going on there in reality—Least I hope not. Any characters you haven't heard of before, are copyrighted to me.   
SUMMARY: A new vaccine has been produced. Mulder wants it, Krycek knows where to find it but they both get more than they bargained for.   
  
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